


A is for Artisan

by coolbyrne



Series: The Alphabet Series [1]
Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:16:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26276254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolbyrne/pseuds/coolbyrne
Summary: When Jack is away on a conference, Gibbs finds things -consciously and subconsciously- that keep him close to Jack. Slibbs
Relationships: Jethro Gibbs/Jacqueline "Jack" Sloane
Series: The Alphabet Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1909126
Comments: 24
Kudos: 107





	A is for Artisan

**Author's Note:**

> The $15 cheese, of course, references "The Deeper Meaning of Laundry". :)
> 
> This would likely be a part of the "Cherry Wood and Whiskey" series if I included every established Slibbs fic I've written, following the aforementioned Laundry fic.

Despite the original reason for getting the big screen TV, Gibbs was more than a little willing to take a Navy loss to Army once a year to have the Duke on a screen that big. His imposing figure flickered in the dark living room as Gibbs sat back on the couch and chewed on his sandwich. The house was quiet, a quiet he would normally relish, but after 8 months that brought in laughter and chatter and other sounds that hit farther south of his belt, it was a quiet that only reminded him of what was missing. He reached out with his right hand to grab the blanket she burrowed under even on the nights he stoked the fireplace to 'inferno', and threw it over his lap, knowing he wouldn't be sleeping upstairs for another 2 nights. He was just punching the pillow when his cell phone buzzed on the coffee table.

"Hey."

"Hey, yourself," she said on the other end. Her voice sounded heavy and tired, and he wondered if she was getting as little sleep as he was. "What are you doing?"

He picked up the remote and turned the volume down. "Watchin' TV. Eatin' a cheese sandwich with that 'artisan' bread you keep makin' me buy." He knew his feigned irritation would draw out a laugh, and he wasn't disappointed.

"Whatever. 'Make you buy'." Her smile could be felt down the line. "Hold on. There wasn't any when I left."

"Guess I accidentally bought it when I got my beer."

They both knew the truth. 

"That's so sweet," she said.

"S'good bread," was all he'd admit.

"Wait. 'Cheese sandwich'? You're not eating the good cheese, are you?"

"Learned my lesson the first time."

"It's 15 dollar cheese. You don't just slap it between two pieces of bread like a heathen. Even if it _is_ artisan bread."

"S'okay. Me an' Cheese Whiz are workin' the bread."

"There are choices in the middle, you know." His answer was a grunt. "And I left you other things to eat. You could have had chili with that bread."

"Ate the chili for lunch."

"Okay, then the lasagna."

"Last night's dinner."

"The pulled pork?"

"Midnight snack on Monday."

"Monday was when I left."

He shrugged even if she couldn't see it. There wasn't a way to tell her that in her absence, he found a connection to her through her cooking, that he didn't just eat the food because he was hungry but because then, she didn't feel so far away. But he knew he didn't have to tell her; it was one of the many things he was learning he loved about her.

"I miss you, too, Cowboy. Even if you're going to be 20 pounds heavier by the time I get back."

"Maybe you should leave the conference early and help me work off the weight."

"Mmmm," she all but purred. "What are you wearing right now?"

The playfulness in her voice made him laugh, but there was just enough sultriness to send a jolt right to his groin. "You're not makin' this easy, Sloane."

The laugh turned low and heated. "Oh, am I making it _hard_ , Gunny?"

"Jack-"

The warning was half-hearted and they both knew it. He wasn't sure if he was glad or disappointed when she sighed, "You're right." But just when he thought he was out of the frying pan, she tossed him into the fire. "The problem is, my imagination's good, but it's never quite the same thing. I've tried. Repeatedly." She knew just how long to wait before adding, "Doesn't matter how much I think of your hands and your mouth, they just don't take the place of the real thing."

His knees spread to relieve the pressure. "You know why our hot water bill's so low, Jack?"

"Because when I go away, you end up taking so many cold showers?" She laughed at the joke and somehow, it made things even sexier.

"I'm eatin' that damn cheese, _Jacqueline_. On a hotdog."

Her intake of breath was only half-joking. "You wouldn't."

"Then you'd better get home soon and stop me."

It had been a long time since he associated any woman with 'home', and that was sexier than any innuendo they shared over the phone. His hand bunched into the blanket the way it would through her hair, and it lifted her scent into the air, teasing his nose. 

"Two more days. If I can sneak away earlier, you know I will."

"I know."

The credits started to roll on the TV and she knew him so well that she said, "Your John Wayne movie over?"

"Yeah."

"Then you should go to bed. Have that shower. Brush your teeth."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"I'll call tomorrow night?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

There was a pause and he used it to look around the room, as if searching for the advice of old ghosts. When none seemed forthcoming, he looked down at his feet and chided himself for his hesitation. He couldn't remember the last time he'd said the words. Wondered if he'd ever meant them after Shannon. But he knew he wouldn't lie to her, wouldn't say something that wasn't true. He owed her that much. "Love ya, Jack."

The silence on her end was so long, he started to feel self-conscious about his confession. Was 8 months too soon to say it? Should he have said it over the phone? Did he- god forbid- read the signs wrong? _It's why you don't do relationships, Mari-_

"I love you, too."

He grinned like an idiot and was glad she couldn't see him. "I'm still gonna microwave that cheese and pour it over my nachos." It didn't surprise him at all that she accepted his deflection.

"You monster!"

They laughed together before he snapped the phone shut and turned off the TV. In the dark, he made his way up the stairs with her blanket in tow, deciding he might sleep in their bed after all.

…..

-end.


End file.
